


All That Stays is Dying, and All That Lives is Getting Out

by j_gabrielle



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Community: lewis_challenge, Established Relationship, Lewis Winter Challenge 2018, M/M, Murder Mystery, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 09:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17180786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: The criminal underclass of Oxford have been up to no good, and the body of a girl laid out on the candlemaker’s shopfront is what they are called in for.





	All That Stays is Dying, and All That Lives is Getting Out

**Author's Note:**

> Second of two prompts I received in the Lewis Winter Challenge. Which was of this [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvSvTRhAJxg&feature=youtu.be) of 'Urge for Going' by Joni Mitchell
> 
> My first attempt at writing a murder mystery.

Lewis huddles himself further into his coat at a gust of wind. The criminal underclass of Oxford have been up to no good, and the body of a girl laid out on the candlemaker’s shopfront is what they are called in for.

“Any joy?” He asks as his Sergeant strides over to him.

“Victoria Jones, 27, late of Carmarthen, Wales. She arrived two days ago for a weekend in Oxford. Apparently, it was a Christmas treat for herself. We’re still trying to contact her family in Wales.”

“We know this, how?”

Hathaway rummages through his coat pocket for his packet of cigarettes. Jerking his chin at a crying girl currently giving her statement to a PC. “Secret girlfriend. Victoria was here for her. Said they’d had a bit of a domestic after dinner, and she’d last seen Victoria storming out of the restaurant.”

“Did she say what it was about?”

“Something about Victoria having an issue with coming out to her family about them.” Hathaway drawls. Lewis doesn’t miss the look he levels him with from the corner of his eye.

 

They manage to track down her mother to relay the news by noon. The poor woman promised to be on the next train to Oxford. Laura gives a formal cause of death that Victoria Jones died of strangulation and judging by the state of the bruises on her neck, it would have been someone with enough strength to hold her down as they did it.

“Additionally, and this may be a point of interest,” Laura hands over her report. “Victoria was once Victor.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” Laura smiles.

Lewis manages to catch Victoria’s girlfriend right before she leaves the station. Jennifer Kim, an undergraduate with a shock of pastel pink hair and red-rimmed grief-stricken eyes, accepts the cup of tea he hands her with a small smile when they take a seat on a bench.

“I knew.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You were about to ask me if I knew that Vicky was trans. I knew.” Jennifer says, “First proper date at a Weatherspoons over a pint, and she told me. Said that if I didn’t want to continue, she’d understand.”

“Did anyone know she was coming to Oxford?” He asks when Jennifer has had another fortifying sip of her tea.

“Only my flatmate Nelson. But he is back with his family this week.”

“I know this may be hard, but do you know if she had any enemies? Anyone who’d want to hurt or want her dead?” Lewis tries gently.

Jennifer shakes her head, sniffling. Tucking a curl of pink behind her ear, she looks to her lap. “Vicky didn’t know anyone in Oxford. We’d met last summer when I was in Carms for a short course at St David’s. It was,” She licks her lips, “It was easy to fall in love with her.”

“Me Sergeant mentioned something about a row that you had last night. Can you tell me what it was about?”

“I wanted us to go steady. I asked her to be my girlfriend. Proper, you know? I was tired of not knowing where I stood with her, and I guess I just needed some assurance from her that this wasn’t just a fling. I mean, I knew why she didn’t want to tell anyone. I’d never want to force someone out of the closet, but I… I don’t want to live life as someone’s secret, you know?”

Lewis leans back, crossing his arms. He has had enough years of being on the job to school the emotions out of his face, but he is sure that the slight waver of his voice is telling enough. “I think I know what you mean.”

 

Innocent chases the both of them out of the office just as the skies begin to darken, telling them that they can come in when Victoria Jones’ mother calls in at the station. One look shared with Hathaway as they shrug on their coats, and they grab a quick dinner at the pub before setting off homewards.

“I shouldn’t.” Hathaway says in the quiet of the car.

“You should.” Lewis leans over, caressing his cheek. “You really should.”

He doesn’t have to look back to know that Hathaway is following close behind. He stands aside, letting Hathaway slide in past him into the interior of his flat. And just like that, Hathaway becomes James, Lewis becomes Robbie the instant his front door locks, and it is just them in here.

Wordlessly, they hang their coats side by side. The backs of their hands brush as they pull away. Robbie slides his hand into James’, walking him to the kitchen. Flicking on the switch, he smiles, just as James does under the lights.

“Hello you.” He slides his hands over sharp hipbones.

“Hi.”

James lets himself be moved into an embrace, body melting against his, sighing against his cheek as he says, “God, I’m spoilt rotten. I’ve been craving one of these the whole day.”

Robbie huffs a laugh, tangling his fingers through the hairs on the back of James’ head. It’s getting long again, he notes. Not that he cares. He loves every bit of his James. “Yeah well, take your fill, love.”

James turns his face on his shoulder, burying his nose to the curve of his neck. “Ah, that tickles!” Robbie squirms. James traps him between his arms with unholy glee, nuzzling relentlessly. “James!”

“Alright, alright!” Kisses of apologies peppered on his face as they sway together under the kitchen lights. Amusement hum and shared through their fluttering touches on backs and bare skin.

“Victoria Jones’ mum won’t be calling in til the morning.” Robbie murmurs, “What do you say to shower, and then sleep? Just sleep, of course. Not feeling much up else.”

James leans away to squint at him mischievously. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure I can convince you otherwise.” He smirks. Robbie valiantly resists the urge to kiss that smug look off his lover’s face and barely manages it judging by the look in James’ blue depths.

Pinching his arse, he swats him away, sliding out of the press of their bodies. “What are you waiting for? Come convince me.” Robbie calls out as he walks to their bedroom.

 

Mrs Morwena Milner, Victoria Jones’ mother, identifies her daughter with a calmness that immediately has Lewis curious. The only twitch in her composure is a slight wrinkle of her nose and a sniffle when Dr Hobson pulls the covers back over Victoria.

“Mrs Milner? Detective Inspector Lewis. I’m sorry for your loss.” He says when he gets a chance to step close to her.

Her dark eyes flicker on his face before turning away. “Yes, hello.” She says, the Welsh lilt of her voice pronounced. “May I know when I can take my daughter home? There is… I have…”

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Lewis asks, gesturing towards the cafeteria. She shakes her head.

“No. No, thank you. I have to make a few calls home. Funeral arrangements.”

“If there is anything we can help with, we can have a bereavement officer come in.”

She smiles, watery and brief. “I would be most grateful, ta.”

Lewis shoots her a brief curl of his own lips. “If I may ask, would you know if anyone wanted your daughter dead?”

“I wouldn’t know. We’d grown apart after she moved out for Uni. Aside from the odd phone call now and then, I barely know her at all.” She unfurls her hand and a wedding ring glints in the dull station lights. “I suppose she resented me for marrying Michael so soon after her father died.”

“Did she not…”

“No. No, she did not. Michael wasn’t the best of second husbands, but he was enough. Treated us well, provided for us. Brought up Vic as his own.” She sniffles again, clearing her throat. “After Vic moved out, we focused on raising our own girls. In a lot of ways, I lost my son long before she called me telling me she was—”

Lewis pats his pockets, rustling up a clean handkerchief that he hands to Mrs Milner. He feels a pang of empathy for her. She thanks him quietly. “Well, I’m sorry for your loss. We’ll try to have her released as soon as possible.” He says, and when she turns to go, he exhales in a rush.

 

They manage to scrounge up the CCTV from the shop across the candlemaker’s. Hathaway takes to scouring the footage for clues, and Lewis tries not to show too much relief at not being roped into it.

But as the clock ticks on, and Hathaway makes no sign of leaving the viewing room, Lewis goes down to the pub for some takeaway. By the time he gets back to the office, Hathaway has his head in his hands like a penitent in church.

“I know who killed her.” He grumbles.

Lewis hands him his roast beef sandwich, taking his seat. “Go on.”

“CCTV footage picked up Victoria walking down the street when she stops at the sight of this hooded man.” Hathaway starts, showing him grainy printouts. Lewis squints a little, but he sees it too.

“She knew whoever this was.”

“Yes.” His Sargeant sniffs.

“Do we have any other way of identifying who this person is?” Lewis cleans up after himself, and waiting for James to finish with his, cleans up after him too.

“The jacket is pretty common. Sold at Tesco. We can aggregate the height and weight of the man, but other than that.” Hathaway shrugs.

“Right.” Lewis stands. Gathering his coat, he gestures for Hathaway to do the same. “We need some fresh air.”

They walk together, hands on sides, neither talking much. After a while, Lewis brushes the back of his hand to James’. Gratified when his lad jolts a little, blushing to the roots of his hair. Hiding a smile when James levels him with a glare, he feels a bubbling of happiness when he doesn’t pull his hand away immediately.

“Do you ever doubt us?” Robbie asks after a moment.

James arches his finger to hook it with Robbie’s own. It is a little gesture, but here in full view of all the evening walkers, it’s monumental in itself. “Only when you’re cross with me.”

“Oh?”

“It’s Pavlovian, I suppose.” The corner of James’ lips curl. “I roll over and bare my neck, like a lovelorn fool.” He comes to a sudden stop, inhaling deeply. Turning to Lewis, he unfolds the crook of his finger, sliding their palms together. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“James, you daft sod,” He sighs, squeezing the hand in his. “You know I’d do the same for you.”

The quiet smile on that pale face is sweet, and Robbie gives in to his desire to pull him down for a kiss. “I would shout it from the rooftops. If that’s what you want.”

James shakes his head. Curling a palm to his cheek, he kisses Robbie again. “I only need us. I only ever needed us. And I’ve got it. And that’s all I need.”

He lets them linger there for as long as they can before he pulls apart. “Alright?” He asks softly.

“Alright.” James smiles.

 

It isn’t until Victoria’s body is being released to her mother that Lewis sees him. He assumes that the tall dour looking man with Jennifer is Nelson, the missing flatmate and only other he and Hathaway catch the quick disgust on his face. As quietly as he can, he turns to Hathaway, “Find out what you can about him.”

“Sir.”

Hathaway comes back with a quick summary; Nelson Young, 25, reading History. Has a history of anger issues and charge for aggravated assault that was later dropped. He manages to corner Jennifer, telling her he’d like to have a word. Nelson keeps a blank look on his face but tells her he’ll be waiting outside. “How long have you been sharing a flat with Nelson?”

“About a year?” Jennifer blinks. “What’s this about?”

“Has Victoria ever met Nelson?”

Jennifer frowns a little. “Only once. At the station, when we bumped into him. It was very awkward. It was like they’d met before.”

Hathaway pops his face round the corner, and that’s his cue. It was a pretty quick unravelling from that point.

Nelson Young and Victor Jones had met each other in a London club years ago; Nelson was interested, Victor wasn’t. Then Nelson moved in and developed a bit of a crush on Jennifer which went nowhere, which would have been fine. Had he not bumped into her and Victoria, now Victoria. Who didn’t recognise him.

“So you were angry.” Lewis said.

Nelson frowned. “Yes. Yes, I supposed I was. Victor was beautiful, and then he turned himself. Into that.”

Disgust wells up in him, but Lewis holds a rein on it. “So, what happened.”

“I just wanted to talk. I cornered him. I really, just wanted to talk. But he…” Nelson licks his lips. “I held him down. And I didn’t let go until he stopped breathing.”

By the time they put him in the cells, and the paperwork is done, the shops were all closed. The night sergeant bids them goodnight when they leave. “I guess it’s leftovers then?” Robbie asks.

“I guess it is.”

James takes the keys from him, sliding into the driver side of the car. The car starts without trouble, and the heater comes on, so does a bit of Joni Mitchell. “Can I take the shower first?”

“Only if you give me a cuddle tonight.” James teases.

It was easy to laugh at that. He buckles himself in, smiling back at his lad as they turn out onto the main road. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
> For those who say that I never said anything, it is clearly stated on my AO3 profile bio.
> 
> I do not have a Twitter account. 
> 
> I do not have a Wattpad account. 
> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


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